Silent Killer
by Gwen Harkness
Summary: CHAPTER 3 UP! Ronnie has cancer and had been given five months to live, can Jack make all her dreams come true before their time runs out? For anyone whose been affected by cancer but especially for those left behind. Please R
1. Tough: Morgan Craig

_A/N: So here's my new story. I'd been considering the idea for a while but never got round to putting fingers to keys but finally I've done it. I really hope you like it. Please review if you want me to carry on because I'm not sure about it. This chapter's just setting the scene so it's a bit slow but I promise more Ronnie/Jack stuff soon. Also for anyone who's reading Tears of an Angel, the next chapter should be up soon.  
All the chapter titles will be after songs about cancer, some of them are really good, you should listen.  
This story is dedicated to anyone whose life has been affected by cancer, especially the people left behind.  
Hopefully a tissue warning if I've done my job right  
Thanks to the BBC for making EastEnders, I don't own it.  
Enjoy._

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"I'm sorry." The doctor said gently. But he wasn't really – that much she knew. His old wise eyes were saying everything his lips couldn't. He had seen hundreds of cases like this, hundreds of people too late to save, hundreds of people he had apologised to for something he hadn't really done. Why should _she_ be any different?

He sighed, giving her a few moments to process the fatal blow of information he had given her. But she couldn't. It still didn't feel real. She still felt as if she was going to open her eyes and this would all vanish like a bad dream. She would wake up, wrapped in Jack's embrace. The heat radiating off of him like her safety blanket. Their two bodies lying there pressed against each other, safe forever.

She couldn't go though, not now. Not when things were finally, for the first time in her whole life, beginning to look as if it would be alright. Of course nothing was perfect, far from, but at least there was still some light in the blankness. Her whole life she had been living in a pitch black room, desperately trying to find the lights and now, at last Jack had appeared and made everything alright for the first time. They had so much they were going to do together. So much life left to live.

"How long?" She managed to ask, trying to sound strong but her voice just came out as a shaky whimper. Her whole body trembled with fear.

The doctor looked down, almost afraid to meet her terrified gaze, "Five months... Obviously we can't be sure but judging by the approximate size and weight on your scan results and your blood tests we can get a pretty accurate picture and..."

The doctor began babbling in some medical language about blood cell counts and mass diameters but she wasn't listening anymore. It was just a mask the doctor hid behind so he didn't have to admit to her that she was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

Why now? There was so many times in the past when she had wished, even begged, for death. That second when her father came into her room when she was so young, the second just before he reached out to caress her bare skin. When he had taken her little baby Amy from her she would lie in bed at night for years after and scream silently for the girl. When her father had told her that her little girl had died years before and she would never get to see her beautiful angelic face again. All those times she had honestly believed she had lost Jack forever and her only reason for living was gone again. When she had sat in the road holding the body of her dying daughter, wishing she could go with her. When her second little baby had died, her chance to finally become a mother again but it had died before she had even got to see it. All those times when she sat alone drinking glass after glass of stupidly strong alcohol, hoping to numb it all out or even better; just not wake up in the morning. Why now when things were finally getting better did it all have to crumble at her feet again?

The pain in her stomach had first started a month after she had moved back in with Jack but everything was so good she never believed it could fall so fast. She had brushed it off and carried on but the pain didn't go away. It got worse. It started in her back as well. Sometimes it would wake her up in the night and she would creep downstairs and pace back and forwards trying to get it to go away.

It was Jack who had first pointed out how thin she was getting when they were lying in bed one night. He had run his soft hand gently down the length of her naked back and kissed her collar bone. He asked her if she hadn't been eating but she just laughed trying to tell him that losing weight was never a bad thing and when they were old and fat she would look back on this and wonder what she was complaining about.

She had known there was something wrong but she had done what she always did with problems; brushed them under the carpet like if she pretended they weren't there then they might just disappear. Then again they didn't call it the silent killer for fun. The symptoms were so vague and easy to pass off as something else that it wasn't really her fault.

Eventually Jack had caught her on one of her midnight wanderings and forced her to go to the doctors. They had taken her blood and she had promised Jack it was all okay, just a virus and she was fine. Then the call came through. They needed her to go back for a scan. It was an ultrasound. She had kept her eyes tightly closed the whole way through but even that couldn't stop the flashbacks. The smell of disinfectant and the feel of the ice cold gel against her skin all reminded her too much of the two children she would never see again. Now a few weeks later she sat there before the old doctor being told she was going to die.

She had come to terms with it a long time ago, dying. There was one point when it was all she had thought about. She had got to a point when she wasn't scared, what was there to be scared of? But now it sat there, deep in her chest, the pang of desperate, terrible fear. Like a freezing cold hold punched right the way through the middle.

In her heart she knew the hardest part of this wouldn't be dying. It would be to lie in Jack's arms every night and wonder if this would be the last time she would kiss his lips. The hardest part would be leaving him.

"You've got two options..." The doctor began.

"Can I...? Can I make a phone call first...?" She was surprised how calm she managed to sound. The doctor nodded kindly and offered her the phone lying on the desk. She took it and punched in the number.

It rung for a few beats before he answered.

"Jack..." Her voice wavered.

"Can this wait babes? I'm down the club and we've just had a delivery and..."

"No Jack," Her voice cracked "I need you now."

Jack didn't ask any more questions. He knew that tone of voice and that was the tone of voice you didn't argue with.

"Where are you?"

"Walford General Hospital, fourth floor, room 183"

"I'll be there in twenty, I love you Ronnie."

She didn't reply for fear that if she opened her mouth again she might just break.

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_If you like it and want me to carry on pretty pretty please review._


	2. Cancer: My Chemical Romance

_A/N: So here it is, the next chapter of this story for all you wonderful people. Thirteen reviews! I love you all so so much, please keep reviewing and I will keep writing for you all.  
One complaint is that only five people bothered to review the next chapter of Tears of an Angel so anymore reviews for that I would be grateful for.  
Next chapter up for this soon, I promise but hey I was pretty fast this time.  
Thanks to the BBC for making EastEnders, I don't own it.  
Enjoy.

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_

Jack pushed open the huge wooden door to the room. Ronnie was huddled in the corner of the sofa, trembling. She looked like a glass doll; one touch and she would break.

A consultant sat just across from her with a computer. He had fuzzy black and white images up on the screen with numbers and formulas next to them. He was sat up very straight, trying not to look at the broken woman across from him.

"Ron..." Jack said softly. She stood up on shaky legs and Jack pulled her into his arms, "Shhh, it's okay Ron."

Ronnie tried to shake her head and whimpered, "No Jack, it's not. It's not..."

She was terrified, all her life she had made sure she was totally in control. On Sunday night her outfits for the week were laid out, she had to know everything. She couldn't lose control, not even for a second because then she was a defenceless child again, her father could do whatever he liked to her and she couldn't stop it. What was happening to her now was out of her control, everything was moving so fast and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She couldn't see it, she couldn't lash out at it and she couldn't run away from it. Long ago she had promised herself she would never be put in that position where she was the weak one but now everything was out of her control and she was vulnerable and powerless once more.

At least enveloped in Jack's protective embrace she felt just a little bit safer. She dragged in a deep breath, trying to calm down. Jack kissed her head gently, running his hand through her hair.

"It is, Ronnie. Whatever it is we can get the treatment, we'll do this together. You're going to be fine Ron, you'll pull through, I know you; you won't give up on me that easily" He tried to comfort her.

"You don't get it Jack..." Ronnie whispered.

"What don't I get?" He asked gently at first but she didn't reply. He started getting agitated and raised his voice slightly, "Ronnie, tell me. What's wrong?"

She shrunk back.

"No, Ronnie." He apologised, "I'm sorry."

"Mr Mitchell?" The doctor cut in, addressing Jack.

"No, Branning. It's Jack Branning."

"Mr Branning, if you and Miss Mitchell could take a seat." The doctor said; his voice cold and professional. He had always been taught not to get personally involved with a case like this.

Jack reached out for Ronnie's hand and they both sat down. He pulled her closer to him and put his arm round her and she buried her head in his chest.

"Doctor, what's wrong with her? It's treatable isn't it?" Jack asked; his voice not quite as confident before.

"Miss Mitchell has pancreatic cancer. Often, we could've treated this with surgery but its spread to her liver. It's rare for someone of her age to get it but not impossible. We did see some suspicious results in her blood test though and brought her back in for a scan." The doctor explained but Jack wasn't listening anymore. He looked down at Ronnie suspiciously.

"Ron, you told me the blood test was fine." Jack tried to keep his voice level for her sake but was finding it very hard.

"I'm sorry," Ronnie said, her voice muffled "I'm so sorry..."

"It's still treatable though isn't it? Can't you do anything?" Jack's voice was tipping from questioning to desperate.

"We've got two options..." the doctor explained, "We can blast the main tumours with radiotherapy and give her a huge dose of chemotherapy to get rid of whatever has spread. But you have to bear in mind that it's actually poison, it'll make her very ill. It won't save her but it'll give her a few more months..."

"Hang on!" Jack shouted, shocking everyone, "We're talking months!"

"Five months, I'm sorry" said the doctor slowly.

"There's got to be another option!" Jack shouted at him.

The doctor nodded, "You can take Miss Mitchell home to enjoy the last few months, we can give her painkiller and..." He trailed off.

Jack's face was thunderous and Ronnie had finally broken. Her whole body shook with sobs and she buried her head in Jack's chest, clasping his shirt like she was afraid if she let go he might just vanish.

"Ron, it'll be okay. Just get the treatment, they're wrong, I know they are! You're going to be fine!" His words became more like demands.

"No, Jack!" Ronnie cried, the doctor stood up silently and left the room to give them some privacy, "Didn't you hear what he said? I'm not going to survive, this is it. There's nothing we can do..."

"Just please, let's try the treatment. There's got to be a chance." Jack insisted.

Ronnie took a deep breath, "Jack, I don't want the treatment..."

"What? No!" Jack objected, cutting her off.

"Let me finish. I don't want to keep being sick and to feel ill all the time. I don't want all my hair to fall out. I don't want to spend my last months in hospital having drugs pumped into me. I want to spend it with you. I love you, Jack." Her voice cracked on the final sentence.

"I can't lose you, Ron" Jack's voice was heavy with tears. He looked as if he had had the life drained from him; his whole body slumped in defeat. Ronnie had never seen him so upset. She had always been the weak one and he had protected her. He had picked up the pieces of her and put them back together when she fell apart but now it was Ronnie's turn to be strong for both of them.

She pulled him close to her and kissed him on the lips gently, "We are going to have more of a life these last few months than most people have in eighty years. We'll do everything we ever wanted to, I promise."

The sound that came out was confident and strong but inside she was terrified. She was scared she had wasted her life and now she so little time left. She had taken all that pain, constantly promising herself that there would be something else that made it all worth it. Maybe it would be when she heard her and Jack's baby cry for the first time. Maybe it would be when she stood in his arms watching their child off to school for the first time. Maybe it would be when they sat in their child's graduation ceremony, hand in hand, the proud parents they were always destined to be. Maybe that would make it all worth it. But her whole life, everything she had ever wanted vanished before her eyes. She wanted to scream and cry, rage her way into the next life. She wanted to hit the walls and lose it but she couldn't. She had to stay strong for Jack and everyone else who needed her.

Jack lifted his eyes, swimming with tears, to meet hers, "Let's go home"

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_A/N: You crying? I hope I had some impact. Anyway, please please please hit that little review button. Love you all. _


	3. Sarabeth: Rascal Flatts

_A/N: Sorry this took to post, I've been so busy that's all and I had problems sending this to my beta-reader. But anyway, it's here now! I can't believe how many reviews I've had for this, I love you all so much! Also for people who are asking about Tears of an Angel, I just got stuck writing the next chapter but I promise I will sit down one evening and make a concerted effort to do the next chapter.  
Anyway, this chapter has some slightly darker themes and touches on bits from Ronnie's past. I'm actually quite proud of it... Now believe me that's not something I often say so I really hope you like it.  
__Thanks so much to the BBC for making EastEnders, I don't own it. Also, a huge huge thank you __RonnieAndJackForever-Chloe for beta-reading this for me._  
_Enjoy._

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The little silver hand on the clock struck the number three. Jack was sat up in bed, bathed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Ronnie slept next to him, her blonde hair splayed out around her head like a halo. Jack's eyes had huge bags under them and his lids kept drooping but he shook himself awake determinedly, his gaze firmly fixed on the angelic woman next to him. His hand rested on her chest, rising and falling with each breath. He felt her every heartbeat, every pound giving him a second more of the reassurance that he desperately craved. He was exhausted but he couldn't fall asleep ever again.

* * *

After being given bags of medication by the doctor they had finally left the hospital. Jack started the engine and pulled out of the car park onto the main road. They drove in silence, neither of them daring to speak. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk; they just couldn't find the words.

Finally, Ronnie broke the silence; "Jack, you're going the wrong way..." she said suspiciously, as he took a right turn at the lights instead of a left.

"No, I'm not." He had replied firmly.

"The Square's that way..." She said slowly, pointing back along the road behind them, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We're going out for dinner tonight" he told her, forcing a smile and slowing the car outside a huge, posh building.

"Jack!" She scolded him as she read the name on the front of the restaurant, "We can't afford The Ivy!"

He gave her, what he hoped was a confident smile, brandishing a shiny credit card. "Ron, we promised a lifetime in five months. I'm going to give you everything you ever dreamed off." He fought to stop his voice cracking.

She dragged in a ragged breath and fixed him with an equally glittering smile. A silent pact had formed between them; as long as they could keep up this facade, as long as they could talk in riddles that made no sense to anyone but them, only then would everything be alright. But, when faced with the cold, hard facts, neither of them could take it.

They spent the night pretending that everything was okay. Jack treated them to the most expensive dishes on the menu and they drank glass after glass of the finest champagne, served in beautiful crystal glasses. The waiters and addressed them as Sir and Madam. For that night they were treated like royalty in this false setting. They talked only of inconsequential things, it was all an act, but it was worth it for one more night of perfection.

Finally, at one in the morning, they pulled into Albert Square. Ronnie had fallen asleep in the car, causing Jack a second of blind panic, fearing that something had happened to her. But she was fine. He shook her awake gently and led her inside where she had practically fallen into bed; it had been a long day and she was emotionally and physically drained.

Jack held her body close until she slipped into a restless sleep. At first he had tried to sleep himself, but he couldn't. Every time he felt his eyelids closing his instant reaction was to flick them back open. He couldn't even take his eyes off her. But the truth was, even though he wasn't willing to admit it yet, that he was scared. He was terrified that if he took his eyes off her for just one second she would be ripped away from him. He was scared of losing her. His world would be so empty, so lonely without her. She was everything to him and always would be. The fear settled deep in his stomach, wound through every inch of his body. There wasn't a second when he didn't wonder how long they had left... He hated himself for leaving it so long. All those stupid games they had played with each other. Sleeping together, then yelling for hours about unimportant things; acting like they hated each other when, in reality, they both knew by the end of the night they would end up in bed together again. Stupid games that he had thought he had _time_ to play. If only he'd known... Now he had five months to watch her slowly wilt and die before his eyes. Even now he could see her eyes sunken in her skull and her jaw line more prominent than ever. She was so thin already._ How_ could he have not noticed? _Why_ hadn't he made her see a doctor?

He felt a tear of fear and remorse run down his face and drip onto hers. He couldn't lose her; he couldn't just sit here and watch her die! _How_ was she so calm? His world without her would be pure darkness; there was no future for him alone. The tears ran down his face the more he imagined. It was just total, pure despair. He forced the thought from his head because it was breaking his heart...

He felt Ronnie's heart rate quicken under his hand. She twisted her body towards him and then back again in her sleep, repeatedly as if she was trying to escape.

"Shhh, Ron." He whispered, holding her close and forcing his eyes open again.

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Ronnie stood at the back of the church, watching in silence. Outside, it was raining heavily and she could hear it beating down remorselessly on the roof. The sky outside was dim and the murky stone floor and walls made everything seem dark and ominous. The greyness seeped in through the windows and even the once pretty stained glass windows seemed to have been drained of all of their colour.

People walked up the aisles very slowly with their heads fixed firmly on the stone floor. Their shadows followed behind them like lonely ghosts. Soon, every seat was filled with people clad in black. Ronnie recognised her friends and family, regulars from the Vic, people she had only met once or twice in her life. They were all there. Some were crying, some bowed their heads in respect. People continued to file in until even standing room was filled. People began to spill out in to the churchyard not wishing to miss their final chance to say goodbye.

Everyone had turned out to pay their respects to Ronnie. In the front row sat Mum comforting a sobbing Roxy. Amy was sitting silently on her mother's lap, gazing up at her anxiously. Aunty Peg was wearing a huge hat, her eyes glazed with tears, staring stoically forward. Next to her sat Phil with his arm round his mother, comfortingly. Ben and Louise and Shirley were seated beside him, Shirley's face fixed with her usual stony glare.

Ronnie's eye was drawn to an empty chair in the front row. An empty chair. A chair that should've been filled by Jack. But he wasn't there.

Ronnie glanced round desperately, searching for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She gently nudged a girl at the back that she vaguely recognised as Hannah, one of the cleaning staff from her club back in Ibiza, but she didn't respond. Ronnie tapped her again, but still no response.

"Excuse me?" She whispered, but Hannah didn't even acknowledge her. She pushed her way to the front of the church, glancing around wildly. In desperation, she shouted to her sister; "Roxy! Where's Jack? He should be here! He has to be here!" Her voice was panicky and rang out in the quiet of the church but Roxy continued to sob quietly, apparently unable hear her cries. It was as if Ronnie was invisible to her, to everyone.

"Jack? Jack!" Ronnie began shouting, her voice elevating to a scream. But still nobody saw her. She reached out to shake her sister, trying to get her attention, but her hand never seemed to quite reach.

She looked down at her fingers, as she stared they began to fade, all her colour was vanishing before her eyes. She was becoming black and white, fading fast like an old, washed out newspaper.

"Help me! Please, someone help me!" She screamed, trying to run, but her feet were rooted to the ground. The more she faded the less she could see. Slowly the world around her became engulfed in a white glow. Ronnie screamed again but no sound came out. She was being sucked away from this world into one of bright white light. The light was so intense she couldn't see anything. Then, it all went black.

A voice called out in the darkness, "Ver-o-nica?" it said, sounding so familiar. She froze, the way she had always done when she heard that voice. She had thought if she had stayed perfectly still he might pass by her room that night. But of course, he never did...

"Ver-o-nica..." He called again. She heard his footsteps getting closer and closer to her. She tried to back away but there didn't seem to be anywhere to go, no matter how hard she tried.

She began screaming hysterically, shouting for help, but she was trapped.

* * *

Jack felt Ronnie's body writhe in his arms. As she thrashed, she was screaming his and her father's names.

"Ronnie! Ronnie!" He shouted, shaking her, "Wake up!"

She opened her eyes, still screaming.

Relief flooded over him as he held her trembling body close.

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_A/N: Please please please review and tell me what you think. Reviews equal quick updates._


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